


played with fire

by annejumps



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Charles in a Wheelchair, Dubious Consent, Dubious Ethics, F/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Post-X-Men: Apocalypse (2016), Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 13:06:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8752720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: There had always been something between Jean and Scott. God only knew why, but there it was.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fabeld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabeld/gifts).



> For [fabeld](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fabeld/pseuds/fabeld)'s prompt: “Post-XMA Charles and Jean’s casual sexual relationship is disrupted once she starts dating Scott. One night, while Jean and Scott are together, Charles infiltrates Scott’s mind.”

Charles had been trying to ignore the signs, but he didn’t think he could any longer. 

There had always been something between Jean and Scott. God only knew why, but there it was. True, Scott was a nice enough boy—a bit reckless, bold, forging ahead without thinking, but assertive, at least, and not an idiot, exactly. He showed promising signs of having strong leadership qualities, given time and an accompanying acquisition of greater maturity. But as it stood, the escalation of his long-simmering interest in Jean was putting a cramp in Charles’ sex life.

For months, since she was no longer technically a student, Jean had been coming to Charles’ bedroom at night, because, she said, no one else quite understood her. (It was more than that, but that was good enough predicate for Charles.) Charles took an inordinate amount of pride in being Jean’s first, but that said, their goings-on were strictly secret, and altogether quite casual—obviously the headmaster couldn’t be publicly known as being in a relationship with a former student—well, at least not one so, so much younger than he. 

They had surprisingly little trouble acting as though everything were completely normal between them during training, meetings, sessions in the Danger Room, missions, and whatever else. At least, Jean did. Charles wasn’t one hundred percent positive about himself, but he never caught any stray thoughts indicating suspicion. Although his shields were good enough he didn’t think anyone would know, it was difficult, sometimes, not to daydream a bit about Jean… naked… riding him… those little sounds she made… what it felt like to be in her mind when she came… the way her brows drew together as she bit her lip. Her taste, how her breasts felt in his palms.

All in all, none of it was anything he was entirely comfortable sharing with Scott.

Charles decided it was all right to skim their thoughts to see what they’d been up to, since it was good to have an idea of the relationships at play on one’s paramilitary security team. They’d kissed, and made out. It was surprisingly chaste for two nineteen-year-olds, which should have been reassuring but actually wasn’t—it very likely meant they meant enough to each other to take it slow, even though they’d known each other for quite some time already. Not that Charles wanted them humping like animals at every turn, either, but…. 

Jean had made it clear that though she and Charles were close because they were so similar to each other in many ways, she did not have romantic feelings for him. And, well, that was actually preferable to having a lovestruck student mooning over him (wasn’t it?). It really ought to be enough for Charles that he got to have hot sex with a gorgeous brilliant (former) student on a fairly regular basis, so much the better since he hadn’t seen Erik in months and, well, even a wise old professor had needs.

At least, it had been a fairly regular basis. Now that things were more serious with Scott, Jean was distracted, and not visiting him quite as often. Charles finally had to admit to himself that it was only a matter of time until they actually slept together, and Jean would be applying the things she’d learned in Charles’ bed to Scott, in Scott’s bed. 

It rankled.

In the meantime, however, it was definitely apparent that something about Scott did in fact make Jean all fluttery and nervous in a way Charles never could. It wasn’t a Jean Charles recognized. She flirted with Charles, yes, but not with this sense of investment, and not in public. Her thoughts lingered on Scott in ways they never lingered on Charles, even when she was looking forward to spending the night with him. 

It was a bit maddening.

Charles always did a brief mental scan of the hallways as he lay in bed before he fell asleep, just to make sure no students were wandering the hallways or in distress. At the back of his mind, tonight he really was hoping to sense Jean approaching his room—it had been days and he was starting to really miss her, yet wasn’t willing to tell her that. He did sense her, but she was walking down the hall leading to Scott’s room, a little thrill of excitement running through her. Charles knew he really ought to leave things be, let her go and put an end to it. Get a full night’s sleep and wake up knowing whatever he and Jean had was irrevocably changed. Accept that Scott appealed to her in a way Charles did not.

What did she see in him?

Charles reached out to Scott’s mind, and slipped in unnoticed just as Jean opened his door. Jean had told him she was coming, that tonight was the night, and he was sitting up in bed waiting for her. The room was dark, Jean outlined by the faint warm light in the hall—it was strange looking at her through Scott’s special visor, but Charles took a moment to admire Hank’s engineering skill in creating and fine-tuning such an object. 

In the light from the window, Jean’s smile was bright, but almost shy. Rolling her eyes a little when Scott smiled at her as she closed the door, her own smile widening, she sat down next to him on the bed, in her pajamas, and looked at him, expectant. They were quiet, just looking at each other, and Charles fought the urge to make Jean shake Scott into action. 

“Have you done this before?” Scott whispered.

“Yes,” Jean whispered back.

“With who?” Scott wondered aloud. 

Jean lightly smacked his arm. “Scott. Don’t say it like that, like you don’t believe me. I have.”

“Okay, but with who?”

“Don’t worry about that, just believe me, okay? Have _you_ done this before?”

“Well, yeah.” Scott shrugged. He had, it was true. Just some girl in one of his classes, someone he’d studied with, before his powers came. It was a fumbling session, not particularly satisfying for her, but it counted. Not really much he could apply to his night with Jean, Charles thought with annoyance. Jean deserved better than some ham-handed, inexperienced— 

“Just kiss me already,” Jean said, and Scott wasted no time in doing so once asked, wrapping his arms around Jean as he did, Jean wrapping her arms around his neck. Scott was not as artful as Charles, didn’t take his time probing and teasing, but Jean seemed to like his approach well enough. Scott’s hand went up under the hem of Jean’s pajama top, sliding up her bare skin, something he’d done before but not with her in her pajamas or with this particular night ahead of them. She wasn’t wearing a bra this time, of course, and she inhaled when he touched her breasts with no encumbrance. He paused, then, at least until she pressed herself against him, and Charles felt Jean’s breast through someone else’s hand. 

Scott was, of course, inartful at this as well, seemingly still stunned at getting to do this—apparently this was the first time he’d actually touched her bare skin there. In other circumstances, his near-worshipfulness of Jean might have been charming. 

Inartful or not, Jean’s nipple was hard. She was, also, apparently expecting more from Scott. Charles realized she was expecting what Charles usually did: massaging her, rubbing his thumb over her nipple, gently pinching her, and so forth. Just being squeezed was leaving her still and expectant, her growing impatience becoming clearer. Honestly, Scott _had_ done this before. 

Well, it wasn’t Scott’s fault that Charles had more sensitive and dexterous hands, and decades more experience. Charles might as well help him out a bit, nudge him in the right direction. 

With a very small push of his mind, Charles got Scott’s thumb to brush over Jean’s pointed nipple. She shivered. Evidently, while she sometimes instructed him with a thought when they were kissing, she didn’t want to direct his every move, and who could blame her? She shouldn’t have to do everything just because Scott was incompetent and she was used to Charles’ superior treatment.

Jean pulled back from the kiss and pulled off her top entirely, leaving Scott stunned again and staring (a view Charles appreciated even though Scott’s visor) before he got both hands on her and resumed kissing her. Once again, Charles had to remind him to brush his thumbs over her nipples. That made her moan, and made Scott inhale. That was one thing about Jean, she was definitely responsive. And enthusiastic. If Scott played his cards right, or if Charles helped him play them, he’d be in for quite a memorable night. 

He didn’t necessarily deserve it, of course, but Jean did.

Subtly, Charles nudged Scott into giving Jean’s breasts a proper, thorough fondling as he kissed her. Scott was, however, in danger of being distracted by his erection—and oh, Charles took a moment to really appreciate being in the mind of a young man with full feeling below the waist and no physical problems in that regard whatsoever. Scott was definitely into this. Well, of course he would be—it was Jean, after all.

Jean paused the kiss to get Scott’s t-shirt off, hasty and scrambling before returning to kissing him again, a little frantic now. Scott’s hands were starting to fumble and he was starting to get a bit breathless—there was no sense in trying to calm him down or reel him in, since, well, who could blame him. Jean got out of her pajamas entirely, just sitting before Scott in her panties, and Scott got out of his trousers with comical speed. 

Jean pressed him back into the bed, lying atop him and kissing him once more, undulating against him. Scott thankfully had the good sense to put his arms around her, kissing back with a great deal of enthusiasm, running his hands down her bare back and squeezing her hips, moving her on him. 

Charles had a feeling Scott wasn’t going to last long during this particular round, and Charles was fine with that.

Scott flipped them over, bridging himself over Jean, watching as she wiggled out of her panties (something Charles also paid avid attention to). Charles didn’t have to tell him to put his hand between her legs, but he did find himself nudging Scott to pinch her clit in a very specific way that always made her twitch and gasp. Following that, of his own volition Scott almost immediately slipped two fingers inside her, startling her, but she arched up and welcomed the intrusion, wet and tight around him. She stared up at him, wide-eyed, lips parted. “Scott,” she whispered. “Keep doing that.” Scott, gulping, nodding, kept his fingers inside her, moving in and out. Well, that was nothing special—Charles had done that to her often enough. True, she did enjoy it, but as it was it was fairly run of the mill. Jean, nonetheless, clutched at his shoulders and writhed. When her eyes were closed, her breathing faster, Scott spoke up, a bit hesitant.

“Jean—Do you—” 

Scott did want to do as Jean asked, but he also wanted to get things further along. Charles couldn’t really blame him, even if it was a bit rude. Scott had years to learn the value of foreplay (whether these years would be spent honing his skills on Jean remained to be seen). 

“Yeah, come on, Scott.” Jean watched as Scott leaned back, settling on his knees, before rather clumsily getting his underwear off. Jean smiled, reaching out for his erection (and Charles braced to feel Jean’s fingers around him—around Scott), but he gently batted her hand away from any real exploration. “Aw, Scott—”

“You’ll distract me. Trust me, I gotta concentrate,” Scott said, shaking his head, laughing breathlessly and reaching for a condom on the nightstand.

Jean sighed, exaggerated. “Fine.”

“‘Fine,’” Scott repeated, teasing. He was taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself as he unwrapped the condom with fumbling fingers, rolling it on with a fair measure of clumsiness, so frantic was he to get inside her. At the same time, he was trying not to think about it too much, as that would be counterproductive. But oh God, it was so hard not to—she was right there, naked, so hot, spread out for him, smelling so good, so eager for him—

Scott took another deep breath, bridging himself over her once more, smiling down at her. She clutched his arms, nodding up at him, wrapping her long legs around his hips, ready to go. As much as Charles loved looking up at Jean as she rode him, this was definitely an angle he appreciated seeing. He and Scott looked down as Scott took himself in hand and lined up, and Charles couldn’t resist nudging him to rub his cock against her, getting her wetter as the sensation against her clit made her hotter for it. Then, however, he couldn’t wait anymore, and as Jean nodded again he sank into her, as slowly and steadily as he could manage under the circumstances. 

In his bed, Charles closed his eyes tightly, savoring the feeling of Jean under him, wrapped around him, tight around his cock which felt every single sensation.

Well, Scott’s cock. Technically.

Jean dug her nails into Scott’s hips, which startled the hell out of him and frankly surprised Charles a bit as well. She rolled her hips up at him until he got going properly, and Charles felt a welling of pride in her—he always encouraged Jean to go for what she wanted. Once that was gotten across—Jean sent Scott a wave of approval—she wrapped her legs more tightly around his hips and pulled his face down to hers for a kiss as they kept at it. 

And no, Scott didn’t last long.

Charles was dismayed—Jean had gotten close, but she hadn’t gotten off. As a sighing Scott slowed down rapidly and sort of collapsed onto her, Charles made the impulsive decision to make her come—he knew just the right neural button to push—just as Scott was about to pull out. She locked her legs around him to keep him in as that rippled through her, gasping into his neck, and it was really rather sweet, Charles reflected, as they lay there together, breathing hard and slick with sweat, clinging to each other in silence for a few moments.

Scott eventually rolled off, disengaging, and binned the condom before getting back into his pajamas, loose-limbed and grinning foolishly the entire time. Jean, too, as she got back into her pajamas, was smiling. Charles sighed to himself. They really were loopy about each other.

They stretched out next to each other, close. “Should you go back to your room…?” Scott whispered.

“I probably should, yeah,” Jean whispered back. But neither of them moved.

She didn’t go back to her room, actually; she fell asleep right there, Scott falling asleep soon after as Charles withdrew from his mind, and lay still in his room, alone, looking at the ceiling before eventually succumbing to sleep himself.

The next few days were nothing out of the ordinary, at least not the ordinary Charles had become accustomed to, where Jean and Scott were swooning over each other and Jean continued to coolly treat Charles as a respected older mentor and not someone on whose face she’d sat as recently as a fortnight ago. Charles was still not sure what Jean saw in Scott, but he didn’t exactly have the option of diving into Jean’s mind without her figuring out what was going on, and he certainly wasn’t going to ask her—he was afraid that, despite his efforts, he’d come off as petulant, and, well, jealous. And obviously that wouldn’t do. But regardless, there was definitely something there, and it wasn’t always for even the one with the feelings to fully understand why they felt the way they did, as Charles knew very well when it came to himself regarding Erik. 

Charles took some satisfaction in knowing that Scott couldn’t match him in bed in many respects, but after all, he was nineteen, and did feel somehow absurd to compare himself with someone so young. But then Charles would catch himself watching Jean, and it didn’t seem quite so absurd. 

One morning, he awoke to what felt like someone else’s dream rapidly melding into his own. He identified the phenomenon as a psychic intrusion just as he realized it wasn’t someone else’s dream, as whoever it was put their mouth around a cock that was erect right in front of his or her face.

 _Charles_.

It was Jean’s voice, and Charles realized that meant it was Scott’s cock. Scott’s taste in his—Jean’s—mouth. 

_Jean! What—_

_I know what you did_ , she said simply, and Charles’ stomach dropped. Then she was gone from his mind, leaving behind a ripple of flame.

When they saw each other later in the day, Jean was as professional as ever, cool and reserved. But with Scott in the room as well, Charles found it difficult to concentrate at first, remembering too clearly where his cock had been mere hours ago. 

Hopefully that was that, and the matter was settled. Jean wasn’t so vindictive. He’d apologize next time they were alone, and that would be an end to it.

In his office a few hours later, into his head suddenly popped a sensation of being on his knees, taking a cock into his mouth. It had been… quite some time since Charles had been in such a position personally, and he felt disoriented for a moment until he realized that once again this was Scott’s cock, and Jean was projecting herself into his mind again. Oblivious, Scott groaned low in his throat at the feel of Jean’s mouth around him, his hands going to her hair, and Charles managed to wrest control of his mind back just as she took him in deep. She was definitely enjoying herself.

Charles sat staring at his desk in his office for a full minute before he was able to get back to work, and even then it was difficult.

Quite late that night, Charles lay in bed trying to sleep, trying to forget the fact that Jean knew what he’d done, as well as his newfound, very intimate knowledge of Scott’s cock. Just as he was about to drop off, back with a vengeance came the sudden and disorienting experience of being tossed into someone’s mind. This time, Jean was on top of Scott, riding him as she would ride Charles. Which meant that Charles was looking down at Scott’s slack-jawed face, feeling Scott’s cock inside… herself. And he was feeling how much Jean enjoyed that. 

_Point taken, darling_ , he told her sternly just before he decisively severed the connection between them.

That, then, did seem to be an end to it, and it wasn’t mentioned by either of them. 

About a week later, Jean came to his room late one night, as she used to. 

She clambered onto his bed, bridging over him as he stared up at her in the darkness, waiting silent and holding his breath until she lowered herself to kiss him, very thoroughly and deeply, until he was breathless and starting to clutch at her, hands suddenly finding movement to get under her pajama shirt and into her pants, until she pulled away and whispered “Just wanted to say goodnight.” 

Smile glinting in the low light as she got to her feet, before he could recover from his shock, she was walking out of his bedroom. And she was going, he knew, to Scott’s. 

He didn’t have to infiltrate anyone’s mind to know that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [redacted] for all your help!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Willing to Burn](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11273016) by [still_lycoris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris)




End file.
